


I Can Explain

by MaeveBran



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeveBran/pseuds/MaeveBran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry finally tells Jo about his scar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I can explain,” Henry's words echoed in Detective Jo Martinez's mind. That and the visual of Dr. Henry Morgan handcuffed in the Dominatrix's office. Part of her was shocked and another part, the part she didn't want to listen to, was intrigued and not unwilling to see him that way again. Maybe in her control and with a few less clothes, or even none at all, would be nice.

Jo shook her head to clear it of those thoughts and stepped into the interrogation chamber. She knew the subject was only dropped for now. Henry had babbled his explanation on the ride over to the police station. It was something about Abe having a woman over so Henry found himself walking by the Dominatrix's office and decided to ask her about the erotic electrocution and Miss Payne had offered to show him. Henry, of course, had taken her up on it. He had both an insatiable curiosity and little to no self preservation impulse. This was a dangerous combination and nothing Jo said would seem to curb it.

 

Later, after Henry had surprised everyone by showing up for drinks, Jo was walked Henry home. He had to still be in some pain from his torture. Jo just wanted to make sure he got home alright. Plus there was still the story of Henry's gunshot scar to hear. Somehow she sensed that that story was the key to understanding Henry.

“I thought you said Abe had a new lady friend,” Jo said as the turned the corner to see the antique store down the block.

“She's not new,” Henry said. “She's ex wife. Two times over.”

“Abe?” Jo asked, incredulous.

“They define off and on again,” Henry said as they walked up to the store and he fished out his keys. “But we're not going up to the apartment. You know my laboratory has some rather nice furniture.”

“I remember your chamber of horrors,” Jo teased.

Henry let them in and lifted the trap door. He turned on the light and let her go first so he could close the trap after them.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Henry asked hospitably.

“Tea please,” Jo said as she settled on the fainting couch, setting her jacket over the arm. She watched as he plugged in the electric kettle, prepared the teapot, and measured the loose leaf tea into the infuser from the tin of specialty tea he favored. He was definitely British, Jo thought. 

He poured two mugs once the tea had steeped, and handed one to Jo before he settled in the chair at right angles to her.

“So,” Jo started. “You were going to tell me about your scar.” She took a sip of the delicately flavored brew in her mug. “Not that I want to pry but you did say you wanted to tell me about it.”

Henry took a swallow of his tea, set the mug down on the coffee table. He stood and walked over to his desk, where he retrieved the journal where he recorded his deaths. He brought the book back with him. He resettled in his chair and picked up his tea.  
“I'm surprised you didn't find this when you were searching in here months ago,” Henry said.

“Oh, we found it,” Jo said. “But we thought it was your record of cases you worked on.”

“No,” Henry said. “Not a record of my cases. But a record of my deaths.”

Jo sputtered on her tea. “Your deaths?”

“I was the doctor who sought passed on a ship from Africa whom I told you about,” Henry said. “The pocket watch was a gift from my father. On the sailing, one of the illegal slaves, that the ship was transporting, came down with a fever. Cholera was feared, so despite my diagnosis, the Captain had the man thrown overboard. When I tried to protect him, the Captain shot me and had me tossed over board as well.”

Henry took a long drink of his cooling tea as he watched Jo's face. She had set her tea down and was making fish faces of surprise. He could see that while not quite believing his story she was working through the story with the details she knew about him.

“I remember drowning,” Henry said. “Then I was breaking through the surface of the water some ways away. Naked. Fortunately, I had surfaced near one of the outer islands of Georgia. I made my way to town and found someone willing to take pity on me and gave me a set of clothes. Eventually I was able to earn enough money for passage back to England and my wife.”

“And what year was this?” Jo asked. It was a far fetched tale but somehow it was making sense. At the very least, it would explain his lack of self preservation.

“I was shot April 7, 1814,” Henry said. “It was almost a year later that I returned to Nora.”

“And you really have died all those times?” Jo asked as she picked her tea back up and sipped at it.

“Yes,” he said. “And returned naked and in water every time.”

She drank the tea and thought. Some of the deaths in that book had been pretty horrific. How many times had he died? And what was his relationship to Abe? These questions and others ran through her mind.

“How many times have you died,” Jo asked. “Since we met, I mean. I assume you have died in the months since we met.”

Henry stopped and thought. He counted them in his mind. There was The subway crash, the experiment with the blood, the fall off the roof, being run over by the truck on the bridge, and when Adam killed him so Jo wouldn't find out.

“Five, counting the subway crash that started our partnership,” Henry answered calmly.

“Five? You've died five times in the last two months?” she exclaimed surprised. “I was right, you fell off the roof of Grand Central Station.”

“You were,” he replied.  
“That's why you shout for people to shoot you instead of anyone else,” she said. “You have no sense of self preservation any more.”

“Two hundred years of dieing and awaking again will do that to you,” he said. “But you're wrong. I do have a sense of self preservation. I just don't try to preserve my life. I try to preserve my secret.”

“I can see that,” she said before she drained her tea. “I imagine that it can be dangerous for you if people were to find out.”

“Not nearly as much as a century ago, but yes, it can be dangerous,” Henry agreed.

“But you can't die, so how dangerous is it?” she asked.

“Dangerous enough,” he said as he drained his mug as well. “I feel every once and second of pain and do die, I just don't stay dead.”

He stood to take the mugs to the sink and winced in pain. His muscles were still stiff if he sat too long. He limped his way over and deposited the cups.

Jo stood up and wondered away for a second. She found his pair of handcuffs on the counter and lifted them up.

“So do you really push the envelope?” Jo teased.

“Not really,” Henry said as he looked at her. 

“I didn't think so,” Jo said. “I saw your face at Iona's. You looked curious not like it was a familiar scene.”

“Why did you want to know?” Henry asked as he walked toward her. “Did you want to push the envelope with me?” He took the cuffs from her and set them down behind her. “Because if that is what you're after, I'm afraid I'm going to need a rain check. Being electrocuted is more painful than you can imagine. Not to mention the undue strain on the muscles of being trussed up like the proverbial Thanksgiving turkey.”

“I'm sorry,” Jo said as she moved out from between his arms. “I should go. You'll be wanting to get some sleep.” She gathered up her jacket and moved to the stairs.

“You didn't answer the question,” he pointed out. She stopped and turned towards him.

“What question?” she stammered.

“Weather or not you were looking to push the envelope with me?” he asked again.

“I... uh... maybe?” she stammered. “I'm not really into that sort of thing but I think if I were to try it with anyone, it would be with you, Henry Morgan.”

The trap door opened and Abe came down the stairs.

“You can come up now, she's gone,” Abe said as he came all the way down the stairs. “Oh, you have company, sorry.” Abe turned to go.

“No, stay,” Jo said. “I was just leaving.” Jo turned to go. “But I have just one question.”

“Yes?” Henry prompted, knowing what it probably was going to be.

“How do you really know each other?” she asked, confirming his suspicions.

“He's my son,” Abe and Henry said at the same time. Abe looked at Henry in surprise. To his knowledge, Henry rarely, if ever, told anyone his secret who wasn't family.

“You told her then?” Abe asked surprised.

“She saw my scar,” Henry answered.

“Many people see your scar but you don't tell them,” Abe pointed out.

“I figured it would come out sooner or later and I might as well control how she found out,” Henry explained.

“Your son?” Jo said once she recovered from her shock.

“Adopted, but yes my son none the less,” Henry said.

“I was rescued from the camps at the end of the war in Germany. My family couldn't be found,” Abe started the story.

“Abigail was a nurse and we had fallen in love. She convinced me to adopt Abe,” Henry smiled at his son. “Didn't take much convincing really.”

“Then Henry and Abigail married and raised me,” Abe said.

 

Upstairs the antique clocks chimed the hour. Their chorus drifted down the stairs now that the trap door was open. Twelve bongs.

“Midnight, I should really get going,” Jo said. She climbed up the stairs and Henry and Abe followed her. Henry walked her to the door.

“You could stay here tonight,” Henry suggested. “We do have a rarely used guest room.” He smiled that half smile that could get a woman in trouble if she saw it too often. “It's yours if you want it. It's awfully dark and cold to be walking back to the station and then driving home.”

“You're right,” Jo said as she turned around and stepped back into the shop. “It would be almost 1:30 before I got home. The 6 AM alarm would come way too soon.”

Abe slinked down to the laboratory and made sure that everything that should be turned off was and that the lights were out. Then he climbed the stairs to the shop and locked up. Then he went to the apartment, locking up and shutting down the lights and things as he went. He followed far behind Henry and Jo. He smiled to himself. He knew the two weren't dating yet (and really that is strange to be hoping your Father figure would be getting some sex soon) but it was good to hear Henry actually taking an interest in life and people again. Abe was sure that Jo would be trustworthy with the secret. If he was right, then Henry's death experiments might slow or stop altogether. That would be a good thing.

Abe heard Henry settle Jo into the guest room and then go to his own. Abe was sure breakfast in the morning would be fun. He went into his room and set an alarm for earlier than he wanted so that he could be there to see all the awkward gory it would be.


	2. Chapter 2

Jo woke the next morning. She took in the unfamiliar room and the conversation the night before came back to her. Her unofficial partner was an immortal. She hadn't seen that one coming but it made sense of little things that hadn't added up before. She changed out of the police sweats Henry had lent her, where had he gotten them anyway, and into her clothes from the day before. She would go to the locker room at the station and change into her spare work clothes before she reported to her desk.

She walked out to the kitchen. Abe was busy at the stove. Henry was reading the morning paper. Nothing told his age as his preference for the dead tree version of the news and not the digital.

“Sleep well, Detective?” Henry asked as he noticed her presence.

“Yes, surprisingly,” Jo said as she walked further into the room. “Anything I can help with, Abe?”

“Just keep the old man occupied,” Abe said as he dished the omelet he finished making onto a plate. “Anything you don't like on your omelet?”

“Not particularly,” Jo answered. 

“Very funny, Abraham,” Henry said with a hint of amusement. “I'll have you know I'm in as good of shape as I was two hundred years ago.”

“Like I said, old man,” Abe teased back as he brought the omelet to Henry.

“So I didn't dream it,” Jo said as she took a seat at the table.

“No, you did not,” Henry said. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Jo answered, between the drinks, the short sleep, and the strange revelations last night, Jo had a feeling coffee was going to be an ongoing necessity today.

Henry stood and fetched her a mug of the caffeinated beverage. He hoped she was going to be as understanding today as she had been last night. He placed the mug in front of her as Abe brought over her omelet.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Henry said. “That was a lot for anyone to take in last night.”

“It will take some mental adjustment,” Jo said. She took a bite of her food. “Abe, this is fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Abe said as he brought his own meal over and joined them at the table. “I took cooking classes when I got back from Vietnam. After the food the Army fed us, I wanted to be able to eat good food and I couldn't cook nor could I afford to eat out while in college. I was able to pay my way through college by working in restaurants.”

“If the antiques business fails, you could open your own restaurant,” Jo said.

“I've done that before and believe me, it is a young man's game,” Abe said.

Jo watched father and son as they bantered their way through the meal. It was clear that they had great respect and affection for each other. She was surprised that others hadn't picked up on it, though she was sure if they had they would have drawn the wrong conclusion. On the other hand, it seemed as though Henry kept people far from his life so maybe people didn't get a chance to draw conclusions.

She looked down at her plate. While she was contemplating Henry and Abe she had finished her meal. It was time to go and get to the station and hope she didn't run into the Lieutenant or Hanson or worse yet, Henry's assistant, Lucas, before she could change her clothes.

“Thanks for breakfast and the use of the guest room,” Jo said as she stood up. “But I've got to get to work.”

Henry stood, “I'll walk you.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Jo said. “But I'm a big girl. I can make it by myself.”

“Again, Detective, I was not hitting on you,” Henry said. “I know you can make it on your own. I was merely implying that I have got to go to the same building and it is more pleasant to have company on the journey.”

“Then, Dr. Morgan,” Jo said. “I'd be glad for the company.”

Abe watched them grab their jackets and make their way down the stairs. He was right. They were awkward together but Jo was the first person since Abigail that seemed to push Henry back into his place. So often, his father could steam roll people with his observations and they'd fall in line with his plans, but not Jo Martinez. Maybe she could be the one to pull Henry back into the land of the living. He would have to observe them and see where he could lend support, Abe thought. He cleared the dishes away with a smile. Maybe he didn't need to worry about who would look after the old man after he was gone.


End file.
